


does not bring relief

by monopolizers



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Marijuana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 10:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4915687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monopolizers/pseuds/monopolizers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whatever had been between them was dead now. Was what he told himself as he stepped out of the car.</p>
            </blockquote>





	does not bring relief

**Author's Note:**

> not beta'd, not brit-picked, not really even read over, written at 3 AM.
> 
> characters initiate and are implied to have sex under the influence of marijuana (though it is consensual).
> 
> this is not the post-Zayn fic I thought I would be writing.

1\. 

Whatever had been between them was dead now. Was what he told himself as he stepped out of the car. Behind him Niall stumbled and Liam put a steadying hand on his arm. 

"You ready?" he murmured to Louis, eyes warm and cautious. Louis tried not to let his mouth twist too much. He could see Zayn up ahead on the carpet, sleek and lithe and gorgeous as he always was. Whatever had been between them was dead now. A mantra he could feel behind his tongue, a repetitive chant in his head. Their last Brits for a while. Zayn's first as a solo act. He really hadn't thought it would end up this way.

Whatever had been between them was dead now. Some putrid smell hanging in the air, rotting, curling around them in wisps whenever they saw each other. At least that was what he imagined it to be. They hadn't seen each other since he'd left, though Louis thought about him almost every day, at first with that immediate gut punch of betrayal, a raw, gaping wound, and then later on, with just a muted echo of pain, a twinge like he'd landed wrong on his foot. Six months in he'd gotten as angry about it as he hadn't even been at the beginning and one night on tour got drunk and sat in Liam's bathtub, weeping, weeping, Liam afraid, touching his hair with fingers that were too broad and too gentle. Now it felt very old. He hadn't even downloaded the album. He hadn't even turned on the radio since it had come out. 

Louis was just very tired, that was all. He was ready for a break, he thought. Down the carpet Zayn was taking a selfie with that familiar smile, tongue behind his teeth, a sleek blonde woman on his arm. He looked very fashionable and very fit and very, very distant. Niall jostled his arm. 

"Ready?" he said. On his other side, Liam clapped a hand on his shoulder. They stepped forward.

2\. 

When Zayn smiled like that, it made Louis' stomach turn. No--that wasn't the right expression. But it did something, that smile of his, tongue behind his teeth, the way his eyes crinkled, how soft and plush his mouth looked. 

"Fuck," he said. He tipped his head back, exhaled. "I'm so fucking high right now, bro."

Across from him on the floor of the Mystery Machine, Zayn laughed. "You literally say that every time we smoke up, bro." 

Louis kicked out ineffectually. "Shut up. This is good shit." 

He could see the tilt of Zayn's grin from the corner of his eye. "Yeah, sure is." 

Everything in his body felt good. He wanted to touch, though. He rolled himself over and put his head in Zayn's lap, ignoring his slight jump.

"Louis...what're you doing?" Zayn said. Louis shifted until he was lying stomach down, face near the crease between Zayn's legs.

"I'm high and you feel good," he muttered, but it came out garbled. He just wanted to touch; everything felt slow and syrupy and Zayn was playing The Weeknd again, though Louis hated The Weeknd. His skin was prickling for contact. He groped around for Zayn's hand and put it in his hair.

"Louis, what are you doing?" Zayn said, sounding honestly bewildered. 

"Pet my hair, dumbass." He hoped his tone brooked no argument, and Zayn seemed to be high enough that he didn't argue, just began running his hand through Louis' hair, a slow motion, in and out, tugging at his ends, scratching at his scalp. Louis moaned low in his throat with how good it felt. 

They lay like that for a moment, everything hanging in the air between them, heavy and hazy, until Louis shifted again. He wanted something else, he could feel it, though he had no idea what that was. With his movement, Zayn's hand slipped out of his hair and landed on his mouth, and without thinking he nipped at Zayn's fingers.

"The fuck?" Zayn said, laughing. "What're you, a dog?" Louis bared his teeth up at him and grinned. 

"Try again and find out," he said. Instead of making the same light motion he'd made before, though, Zayn's hand came down and cupped Louis' jaw. His thumb landed on Louis' mouth, stroking his bottom lip lightly. Louis almost purred in contentment, stretching his head out on Zayn's thigh. 

"You okay?" Zayn said, laughing again, light and amused. Instead of answering, Louis licked his thumb the next time Zayn stroked his bottom lip. It would be funny, he thought, and wasn't at all prepared for the way Zayn gasped, hand tightening on his jaw. 

Louis peered up at him curiously. "Are you okay?" 

"Get off," Zayn said. His voice was strained and tight, not at all the way he should have sounded. Louis didn't like it when Zayn sounded like that. 

"What's wrong?" he said, reaching up for Zayn's face. 

"Get off," Zayn said, pushing, but Louis pushed back. Somehow in the struggle his head slipped down Zayn's thighs and his hand landed on Zayn's crotch, feeling out a hardness. They gasped and froze at the same time. Louis groped a little more, and Zayn groaned, low in his throat, before pushing Louis' hand off. 

"What was that for?" Louis said. 

Zayn actually bared his teeth at him. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he said. "Don't play around with that shit." 

Louis hadn't been playing around, really; it sounded like the perfect idea right now. It was the extra thing he'd been searching for, the closeness, what his skin was prickling for. "I want to," he said. He'd meant it to sound earnest, but it came out throaty, low. He could see the movement of Zayn's throat as he swallowed. He moved forward a bit, and then more, sliding his hand up Zayn's thigh. The material of his jeans felt all new, rough, under Louis' fingertips. "Let's just do it." 

Zayn's thighs were strained, trembling; then all at once, he let out a breath, and all the tension sank out of his body. He curled a hand in Louis' hair. "Sure," he said, voice rough. "Sure." 

3.

"What if it's me?" Louis remembered saying once. He wouldn't have been able to place the memory if he tried; maybe during one of the later tours, maybe even during OTRA. 

"Can I tell you something?" Zayn had said. They were lying in a hotel bed together after having smoked up and watching a movie. He sounded half-asleep, though he always sounded that way at night. Louis nodded. He didn't trust himself to say anything.

"It's not your fault," Zayn said. He sounded uncharacteristically serious. "People do--leave. And it sucks. We leave places all the time, like we leave our parents, our families.... It's part of life. But when people made a decision to leave your life, that's their shitty decision. That's not you. You're important to a lot of people." Louis had snorted at that, and Zayn smacked him lightly. "Not just 'cause you're a millionaire popstar. I don't just mean the fans. People like you for you, you know? Your mum, your sisters...El definitely does, or she wouldn't put up with the rest of it. Sometimes we just live lives where people leave or we leave them. It's just--learning how to do it nicely. Gracefully." 

"You won't, will you?" It came out as almost a whisper, he was so ashamed to ask. 

Zayn didn't make him repeat it. He put a hand on Louis' thigh and squeezed tight. "No way, bro. No way." 

When they locked eyes on the carpet, that was what he thought of. He held his head high and his tongue still. His throat tightened. Zayn nodded at him once, nodded at the others. Then he kept moving down, swiftly, swallowed up so soon it was almost as if he hadn't been there at all.

He could feel Harry's palpable relief, Liam's sorrow, Niall's anxiety. He had no clue what was on his face, just something turning, tightening in his chest. Something locking into place. Sometimes people leave you. You learn to exit gracefully. You learn to be okay with it. Around him, people milled and chatted and took pictures together. He took a breath that sounded like a sob in his ears, then another, and then another. Breathed out, felt everything slow down. Whatever had been between them was dead now. It resounded in his ears like a heartbeat. He stepped forward.

**Author's Note:**

> > Time does not bring relief; you all have lied  
> Who told me time would ease me of my pain! 
> 
> \--Edna St. Vincent Millay
> 
> tumblr [here](http://dicktrick.tumblr.com/), rebloggable post of this [here](http://dicktrick.tumblr.com/post/130325347322/does-not-bring-relief-14k-pairing-zaynlouis)


End file.
